Gradually Returning to Normal Life

Waking up this morning and handling a pile of tasks, I suddenly remembered I had booked an expert appointment in oral and maxillofacial surgery at Peking University School and Hospital of Stomatology, and the time was near. I hurried to call a taxi, but it was rush hour and none was available. Helpless, I scanned a shared bike and rode to the hospital. My own bicycle had been smashed to pieces in the crash, so I had to use a shared one.

I had thought I would never cycle again in my life, but before the wounds had healed I was back on one—truly, I forgot the pain before the scar healed. The wound on my knee pulled a little, but I could not worry about that. The hospital is less than three kilometers from my home, so the ride was quick. I made the appointment time, but when I got to the hospital it was packed—busier even than the Spring Festival travel rush. There is a major Mycoplasma outbreak in Beijing recently, and coughing echoed through the waiting crowd. I waited in line a full hour and forty-five minutes before seeing the booked expert.

I had been sent to Peking University Stomatology by the first hospital, which told me I had a maxillofacial bone crack they could not handle and that I must go there. The maxillofacial expert looked at the films, gave me a quick exam, and told me that more than ten days had passed, the little injury had already healed on its own, and no further treatment was needed. In under two minutes, my consultation was over.

Since nothing was wrong, I was relieved. On the way home, I decided not to take a taxi or bus, and not to cycle, but to walk. From Minzu University of China I walked to the National Library, then from the National Library to Zizhuyuan Park; crossing through Zizhuyuan, it is not far to my home.

A crash was not suffered in vain; now, whether cycling or walking, I am much more careful. On roads with motor vehicles, I look left and right. Passing the National Library, I was pleasantly surprised to find that the pandemic control post at the entrance, which had been there from the outbreak until earlier this year, had been removed. Entering the library no longer requires a reservation; one may go in directly with identification, as before the pandemic.

Since the pandemic began and the National Library introduced reservations and a control post, I have rarely gone in to read. I have plenty of books at home and did not need to visit the library often. But the reading environment there is different from home, and I still love going. I think, once I am a bit better, I will continue going there to read every day.

Zizhuyuan's autumn colors are in their late stage; the ginkgo and poplar leaves have mostly fallen. But Zizhuyuan still has large bamboo groves, and bamboo is evergreen, so the place remains full of green. I had not strolled a park in a while, so I wandered through Zizhuyuan. During the walk I felt a little dizzy, which reminded me my concussion was not fully healed; not daring to be reckless, I hurried home to rest.

Once home, my head began to ache. After handling some things on my phone, the headache intensified. I had to take an ibuprofen and go to bed. This kind of headache really interferes with sleep, but after tossing for a while I finally fell asleep. When I woke, the headache and dizziness were gone. Some post-crash sequelae remain, and recuperation is still important, so I am not pushing myself too hard recently—or rather, I will never push myself too hard again; there must be a limit to any work.

I also do not plan to buy another bicycle, and will minimize shared bikes. In the future, when going out, I will plan time generously in advance and walk or take the bus. I do not plan to garden the vegetable plot next year either. There is a four-to-five-square-meter terrace in the community courtyard that an elderly gentleman and I had split. This year he developed liver cancer and has not been seen again; next year I plan to make full use of those four to five square meters, planting some flowers, plants, and a few vegetables to satisfy my love of growing things and simplify my life further.

Having survived this ordeal, I want to live a simpler life. I was never an attached person to begin with; now that I have died once, I am even less attached. But I am not decadent either; I still live by the principle of "a day without work is a day without food." I am just reducing my workload a bit, lowering its intensity, and taking worldly concerns a bit less seriously. Still, I will continue to love others as always; without love, life has no flavor, and after the crash my greatest fear was losing the ability to love others. Happily I have not lost it; I just understand better than before how to balance loving others and loving myself, so that no love becomes a burden.

In a sense, I should thank this crash for raising my self-protection awareness all at once. In the past I lacked vigilance and had frequent small accidents. Because those small accidents were not harmful, I did not take them seriously. This time, nearly meeting my maker, my brain felt rebooted, and my vigilance system suddenly grew. I cycle and walk cautiously now; only in the park or on car-free tree-lined paths do I dare to walk and think freely.

But I have not been scared out of my wits. The first few days going out I was indeed a little tense; now going out I am relaxed and natural again. One should not stop eating for fear of choking; one cannot give up normal life because of one crash. For a while I even thought of gardening again next year, but then I realized study will become busier next year and I will not have the time, so I decided to drop it, which is fine.

Many people have been asking after me recently, and I am very grateful. Some friends who care about me deeply were anxious during the days I did not post articles, which especially moved me. On the day of the crash I could have sent a brief notice, but I worried it would bring greetings from hundreds to a thousand people; at a time when I needed quiet rest, such a flood of greetings would have made true rest impossible, so I held back. When such things happen, safety must come first. Life is lived only once; once it is over, it is really over. I am not afraid of death, but if one can avoid dying, it is better not to.

My mood has gradually improved. No matter what happens, as long as one is alive, one should be positive and optimistic. For someone who loves life as I do, surviving a near-death experience brings a steep rise in happiness. Having retrieved one's life is the most joyful thing; all other grievances, debts, loves, and losses are nothing. These days I have told myself that from now on I must live my own life well and take everything else less seriously. The rest of life is not long and needs little; there is no need to be busy and flustered.